


Ticklish

by geekyjez



Series: Isii Lavellan [32]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Tickle Fights, a tiny bit of sexiness in there, but it's mostly tickling, so fluffy i could die, who knew the Dread Wolf was ticklish?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-30 15:53:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8539096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geekyjez/pseuds/geekyjez
Summary: Isii discovers that Solas is ticklish, much to his dismay. When he tries to get her back for the assault, she confidently tells him that she can’t be tickled. He tests that theory.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Word prompt: Gargalesis _(heavy tickling often leading to laughter)_  
>  Originally posted to tumblr on March 9, 2015.

She knew she should have gone to bed hours ago. She was stressed and the day had left her feeling absolutely drained. Solas had tried to coax her into retiring for the evening once the others began to clear out of the rotunda, but she refused. Honestly, she just wanted to spend some time with him. He was a balm to her nerves and she found it soothing to be in his presence. She wouldn’t admit to this, of course. No – his advisement was met with unconvincing claims of not being tired. Though it was clear he didn’t believe her, he made no argument when she curled up next to him on the couch, his eyes not lifting from his book. When she leaned in closer to peer over his arm, she felt him twitch. It was a distinct movement, a sudden and small jerk, a quick intake of breath and then nothing – the placid calm returning to his face.

Her eyes narrowed.

She tested her theory, touching his side again with a quick pinch and he jerked again, turning his head toward her, frowning.

“Stop that.”

Her eyebrow arched. “Are you ticklish, Solas?”

He huffed dismissively, glancing back down at the book.

Her grin widened.

Her hand went back to his side again, not as a gentle prodding test but as an attack, pinching along his ribs as he twisted, scooting away until his back was pushed against the arm of the couch. He was fighting laughter, that much was obvious, his lips pursed tightly and his glare did nothing to hide the bright look in his eyes. “You’re being childish,” he snapped.

“Then admit that you’re ticklish.”

“I’m not.”

That was all the provocation she needed. She lunged forward, crawling onto him despite his attempts to push her back, her fingers mercilessly pressing his sides. He squirmed, sputtering behind tightly pinched lips, eyes narrowing and mouth twisting as he tried to pry her fingers away. There was a breathless quality to the sounds that caught in his throat, his legs kicking, fighting the grin that was tearing at the corners of his lips. He grabbed for her hands, yet each time he’d grip her she’d slip away again, attacking at a new angle. He bucked his hips up suddenly beneath her and she let out a playful shriek as she felt herself falling off of the couch. She did not fall alone, his body following her, rolling her onto the floor of his study, pinning her beneath him. He finally caught a solid hold on her wrists, holding them above her head. She took some small satisfaction in the fact that she had him panting by the time he’d gotten her immobilized.

“If you’re looking for revenge, you’re out of luck,” she said, grinning. “I’m not ticklish.”

“Is that so?” he asked, shifting his hold on her until he had both her hands held under one of his own. He pulled his free hand down, dragging his fingers along her underarm. She lifted an eyebrow, smirking. 

“Amateur.”

His eyes narrowed, his touch lowering to trace her sides. She looked up at him, her face steady, her expression filled with mischief and satisfaction. There was not so much as a twitch in her lips, no hint that she was affected in the slightest by his efforts. After a few moments of his exploration, she feigned a yawn. “Are you quite finished?”

There was something in his expression she could not quite place – a flash in his eyes that made her stomach jump. His fingers began to work on the fastenings to her jacket, flicking them open. He watched her face as he did and she was breathless for a whole new reason, unrelated to wrestling with him moments before. “What are you doing?” she asked. He did not answer, pulling her jacket open, sliding the hem of her tunic up until it rested just beneath her breasts. His eyes were still set on her own as she felt him drag a single finger down the length of her stomach, his nail lightly scraping skin. “Are you still on about that?” she asked with a small laugh. “I told you, I’m not-” Her stomach tightened slightly. She swallowed. “-ticklish,” she finished quickly. But she knew he had caught the tell from the way his lips curled. He repeated the motion – slow nails dragging on skin and soon her toes were curling in her boots, her lips pinched tightly. It wasn’t the kind of tickling she was used to- not the quick pinches that had never had any effect on her. This sank deep under her skin, crawling its way down her spine. Her back began to twist, her hips shifting beneath him yet he merely increased the weight of his own, holding her in place as he began to increase the extent of his assault. New angles, sweeping across her stomach and soon she was choking back giggles.

“Ok, stop,” she said. “You’ve proven your point.”

“Have I?” he asked innocently. “And what point is that precisely?” He increased his speed and yet the light drag of his touch remained the same and she couldn’t hold back any longer. Stomach muscles jumping, her hips bucking underneath him, back arching, squirming, unable to contain the uncontrolled peel of laughter that echoed into the levels above, bright and loud and nearly shrieking as he mercilessly pressed onward. Her heels dug against the stone, writhing, barely able to gather the breath to tell him to stop. Her wriggling started to loosen his hold on her somewhat and soon she had an arm free, her hand trying to capture his own. She was able to slip one of her legs out to his side, curling it around him, trying to push back on his hip with her foot and he laughed, amused at her attempts to free herself as he remained unmoved above her. She let out a frustrated sound, a growl swallowed in a gasp as she gave up trying to catch his hand. Instead, she gripped the leather cording around his neck and dragged him down, capturing his mouth with her own. She bit down hard on his lip which only made him laugh harder. She finally felt like she could breathe again, a sudden rush of relief when he moved his hand away from her stomach, cupping the nape of her neck and easing her into releasing her hold on his lip, coaxing her into a proper kiss. When he pulled away she glared up at him fiercely.

“I’m going to get you back for that,” she said between heavy breaths.

He smirked, brushing hair out of her face. “I am certain you will.”


End file.
